


The Stars

by funguspng



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale and Crowley Live Together (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley move to the South Downs, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Crowley is gay and sad and so am i, Crowley made Alpha Centauri, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 05:55:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19900915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funguspng/pseuds/funguspng
Summary: Crowley didn’t have to pretend to be a God at times. If there was enough dry red in his system, he could recount a memory of long ago. Before Aziraphale, before the earth, yes when the stars came about. He should know. He was able to make a few of them. Alpha Centauri.-Crowley and Azirphale move to the South Downs together. Crowley has a hard time letting go.





	The Stars

To have creation over a lot of fools, pawns, to be a God, Crowley thought about time after time. He performed experiments to test his theories, to replay a horrible, undeniably cruel act to begot a being into existence, only to let it suffer for something it had no control over. His plants were the most recent contenders to be abused and gone away with the snap of a hand, a low growl and quiver of a dissatisfied scowl. The rattling sound of their shaking leaves, hoping he could revel in them, only made him weep silently into the night as he looked at pictures of the night skies drawn by astronomers. 

The stars, yes, the _stars._

Crowley didn’t have to pretend to be a God at times. If there was enough dry red in his system, he could recount a memory of long ago. Before Aziraphale, before the earth, yes when the stars came about. He should know. He was able to make a few of them. Alpha Centauri. 

-

His once black hair, falling against his shoulders, white gown tickling the tops of his ankles and his wings a starking white. A bright light cascaded against him. 

“Go ahead, Raphael. Try it on your own.” said God.

“Yes, Almighty.” he replied, a small smile on his face.

He reached his hands up, shaking lightly, balling his fists and whispering soft words. A small light appeared from the cracked shadows of his hands. Upon opening them, a star, a ball of fire and gas, shining a bright blue and bubbling came about and his eyes lit with a burning joy. He turned back, the light making his eyes squint and grinning a wide smile. 

“I did it! Just like you said I could.” he said, a flutter in his chest.

“As I _knew_ you could, Raphael. You shall be in charge of this Alpha Centauri. I’m sure you shall make it beautiful and radiant.” said God, the voice fading slightly at the end as the light dwindled, off somewhere else.

He turned back at the first star he made against the black void in front of him. Elated, he almost danced as he created those three stars with such care. So close to the world that God was to create. There was an abundance of his love for all that he had. He had no doubt back then, of his unwavering love for the Almighty and the new creation of the Earth coming and _he_ was going to be apart of it. Yes he was.

That was until he had fallen. 

Unrecognizable with his bright, burnt, red hair and wings turned black. 

Down there, there was no galaxy. 

He tried to raise his hands once more, his trembling fists wavering as he tried to concentrate, sitting against the cold ground. He opened his palms and felt the cool air brush against the emptiness of his skin. No warmth or light. There was no kind presence upon his back any longer. 

He could no longer create a star. 

-

Crowley smashed the bottle down, the glass shattering and a sob choked his throat, so taught that he looked like he was no longer alive. That death was finally taking him. After all, he would’ve preferred it over falling. He laid down in his bed, clutching a drawn picture of Alpha Centauri to his chest. _If only those humans knew._

\- 

Crowley set down the last box out from the moving van outside the door. He was together with Azirphale in their new home in the South Downs, the sun beginning to set after a long day. Turning around, he looked up at the sky, a cool purple, a pale yellow with orange hues transitioning beneath it. Without thinking, he placed his hand against his stomach, feeling it topple as saw the moon, half crescent, sitting before him. He wondered if the Moon had been God watching over him. Though, it couldn’t have been, because he could remember the three angels who created it together. She wouldn’t hide out in the moon.

The sudden brush of fingers underneath Crowley’s own made him stand up straight, his chest about to heave slightly, but calming at the sight of Aziraphales gentle eyes and smile. The angel’s hand squeezed his gently, the slightly coarse skin dragging against his own. 

“Let’s go inside, my dear boy. It’s been a long day. We can celebrate, if you’d like.” said Aziraphale with a lightness in his voice. 

“Yes. Of course. I’d quite like that.” responded Crowley, gently squeezing his hand back. 

Inside, there was a disarray of boxes littered and stacked on top of one another in clumsy piles that they both know were meant to be dealt with later. Aziraphale had gone searching for his old stereo, trying to find a near channel so that they could listen to music with one another. Crowley noticed a pang of disappointment on Aziraphale’s face when the connection wouldn’t go through and all that came out was a lost, static sound. Crowley snapped his fingers lightly and music began to hum from the machine. Aziraphale blushed, not saying a word. 

“Shall I open a bottle of wine? I opened the case for it already.” asked Aziraphale, hand pressed against the plain and barren wall of the new house that led from the living area to the kitchen. The gentle, dim but warm light laid against his skin and Crowley thought he was like the color of yellow ochre paints against a lamp in the late night studio of perhaps Valesquez. Even more so, golden and layered beautifully, like a Klimt. 

“That should be alright. Pick whichever you like and we’ll toast together, angel.” Crowley responded, back arched against a wooden chair and his left leg draped across his right.

Aziraphale left the room and came back with a red wine, Château Lafite Rothschild 2000, the bottle filling the room with an aroma of currants, a woody smell and it was rich. Two wine glasses clinked in his hands as he set it on the fireplace mantle. Filling a glass, he handed it towards Crowley, holding the other one close to his chest.

They stood up together, clinking their glasses.

“To the world.” said Azirphale, a glimmer in his eyes.

Crowley felt like he could choke.

“To the world.” he said back softly. 

Aziraphale lifted the glass to his lips, eyes closed, only stopping to feel a brush against his cheek. Opening his eyes, he saw Crowley reaching across to him, a stare so gentle, eyes hidden behind the tinted shades that you could barely see, teetering between a fire like ember and a glossy sunrise. They spoke of something that hid in the valleys of his irises, begging to come out but fleeing at the moment they are noticed. They looked at each other for a moment more until Crowley lowered his arm and they took a sip.

They had gone through the first bottle and opened up another red wine in a short time frame. They laughed amongst one another, a small distance apart in their chairs and feeling delighted in each others presence. A friendship of six thousand years, beginning to seep in the floorboards and air of this new house. Aziraphale smiled, a rosy flush blotching underneath his cheeks, the corners of his eyes and the tip of his nose as he set the glass down.

“Oh Crowley, you must dance with me. This next song is slow enough, please.” Aziraphale said sweetly, a slight slur in the speech. 

“Oh, I don’t know, angel. Maybe another night.” he said, tilting his hand up as he laughed a bit. He knew Azirphale would fight him on it, so at this point, it was just teasing. 

“But, oh, oh won’t you?” Airphale protested, a slight hiccup rising up from his belly that landed gently in the air. “I really, really, _really_ want to. You know how much I love dancing, please you must.” 

“Oh, alright Aziraphale. I’ll dance with you.” Crowley said with a small laugh, rising from his chair and reaching over to the angel. Aziraphale reached for Crowley’s face, causing him to flinch, and took off his sunglasses. When he lowered his arms to put them in the chair next to him, Azirphale stared into his eyes and smiled. They pulled closer to each other, Crowley wrapping his arms around his waist while Aziraphale placed his arms around his neck. The light sound of a guitar and banjo playing together filled the room slowly and a soft, low voice began to sing. 

_Lovers accustomed to tragedy_

_See every kiss in the window across the street_

_Breezes and blessings passin' by, oh_

Crowley never knew what to say or do at times. As witty as he tried to play himself out to be, he was just as clueless as the next person about what was going on in the fabric of their lives. As of now, he was just clueless as to what to do as they danced or what to do in the coming days. What if armageddon started up again? Or if the Great Plan was even something that was to happen and it was all a big prank to dupe Heaven and Hell? Ineffability, at times he thought, was a sad joke.

Their chests were pressed softly against each other. There was something interesting about these corporeal bodies that they had to walk on the earth. They had pulses, a heart, or at the very least, a system that imitated those things. Crowley swore that Azirphale’s was beating quickly inside his chest and he tried not to think too much about it. Perhaps even, it was his that was beating so fast. The only thing he could do was pull him a little closer. 

Aziraphale had his eyes open, the look of something in his eyes. Affection, perhaps. Adoration at best. It made Crowley’s chest squeeze tight, his throat dry and he tried not to lose his hold on the angel. 

_I'm in the shade of the dogwood tree_

_Not the one where you told your name to me_

_Two hungry blackbirds land nearby, oh_

  


A name, Crowley thought to himself. He was sure that the angel before him wasn’t created till after he fell. He wondered what Aziraphale might say if he told him who he was beforehand, even though Crowley himself could hardly remember anything about being the archangel Raphael. All he could remember was the stars. The moments before he fell. Flying towards Lucifer, mouth open to say something, when everything became a bright red and there was yelling. There had been a war. His friends from before, looking at him with a fury that he had never seen them possess. Forced to kill those friends who he loved dearly. He remembered hiding. Praying to God. Why couldn’t God hear him?

Crowley had tried to take up drawing. However, he would in a blind rage, charcoal in hand and heat in his blood, draw the God who had once loved him so. He would scrawl and drag the stick of charcoal until it was so short the side of his palm would scrape against the paper and tear it. This was their God, what _his_ God was and there was nothing that could ever fix how much it hurt him. Oh, how he missed that warm, cascading light on his back. It had only become the scribbles of someone mad with grief.

God did not love him so. _Just as you knew I could_ , he would think to himself. There’s no way to articulate what God meant to him before. Now it was a confused, lonely and gut wrenching rage that barely kept him going.

Crowley began to tremble but tried to keep face. He could not let this phase him.

He’s had all the time in the world to get over it. 

Six thousand years, with one particular angel who saved him.

He didn’t deserve that love light. 

_If I could be over you when the sky starts fallin'_

_Would you be happy under me?_

_If I could be under you if the Earth was burnin'_

_Could you be trusted over me?_

Aziraphale had been surprised when Crowley seized up in his arms, falling forwards and almost taking him down as well. Crowley’s face looked pale, crestfallen, his eyes fully yellow and sweat beaded down his face. He tightened his grip on the demons arms and tried to keep him from falling. 

“Crowley! What’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked, worry pinching the words as they left his throat.

“Stars.” Crowley said with a crack. “I mean, it, it’s nothing at all.”

Crowley stood up quickly, running a hand through his hair as he breathed in and out deep and shallow. He reached over for a bottle of wine, filling up the glass and going to chug it. Azirapahle leaned over, grabbing Crowley’s wrists and held them up.

“Don’t do that Crowley! Please, say what’s on your mind. You know that...that you can tell me anything.” Aziraphale said, getting quieter as he spoke. He loosened his grip, reaching a hand for Crowley’s cheek to hold up his head. Crowley tried to keep it down but let up and took a deep breath in. Tears fell from his eyes, one tear trickling down his cheek while other fell in the crook of his nose. Aziraphale followed him as Crowley lowered down to his knees.

“I want you to understand. I just don’t want you to go.” Crowley spoke quietly.

“You know that I won’t.” Aziraphale responded, holding his hand.

Crowley paused for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek and pondering over his words.

“Before I fell...my name was Raphael. I helped create the stars and galaxies in the sky. I loved God. I really did. I was amazed in everything she did.” Crowley said, hands shaking. He felt the rise of Azirphale’s shoulders when he said that, but they went back down just as quickly. “She taught me how to make stars. I was really good at it too.”

Aziraphale leaned closer, eyes intent and focused not on Crowley’s face but on his words. 

“Then I fell. I really didn’t mean to fall. I hadn;t thought badly of God. The food was just a little bland lately, but that was it. I had so much faith in me, I think I had even more faith than you did when I met you. I lost my friends. I lost my ability to make the stars. Most of all, I lost that faith over time. God wouldn’t hear me out.” Crowley choked out. 

Aziraphale grabbed his hand and squeezed. “You didn’t deserve to fall.”

“I know that!” Crowley said, hiding his eyes with his other hand. “God can’t hear the prayers of demons though. I tried to call out for her. I talked to her whenever I could. Asked all of these questions I had but I should’ve expected not getting an answer. I’ve been angry ever since. I remember after I spoke to you that day six thousand years ago, looking up at the night sky and barely seeing the stars of Alpha Centauri. Those stars I made with my hands. These humans, they could never be able to comprehend how beautiful it is, the way it took my breath away.” 

Crowley took a pause and breathed a shallow breath. “I know I don’t deserve reverence or forgiveness. I needed to accept my fate despite how hard that may have felt. I found _you_ and that should be enough. Sometimes, I can’t help but wish that things could’ve been the same. Maybe I could’ve met you despite everything.” 

“But you found me now. I wouldn’t want to change it. Crowley, dear boy, you’re worth of such love. That’s why I love you as much as I do.” Aziraphale said softly. 

Crowley lowered his hand and looked at the angel. Azirphale leaned closer, placing his hands on Crowley’s forearms and kissing him softly. Crowley didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he did nothing at all. He just leaned into the kiss and closed his eyes. 

It had been their first kiss. The first of many to come. They let go and breathed gently. 

_Poetry tempered with tragedy_

_Tempted and pulled when you cry upon my sleeve_

_Two flocks of blackbirds meet the air, oh_

_If I could be over you when the sky starts fallin'_

_Would you be happy under me?_

_If I could be under you if the Earth was burnin'_

_Could you be trusted over me?_

They looked at one another and Crowley collapsed in Aziraphale’s arm and sobbed gently. They stayed like that for a moment but it was fine that way. Azirphale raised Crowley up and took his hands. 

“Try.” Azirphale said, thumbs trailing over Crowley’s palm.

“Try what?” Crowley asked. 

“A star.” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley’s eyes widened and he looked at his hands. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes, raising his hands slightly above his head and whispered the words he recited all those years ago. He kept his eyes shut tight, but felt them squint more as a light appeared. He gasped and open his eyes, a star of light yellow and orange floating above his hands. His mouth went dry and felt the tears prick in his eyes. 

“How?” Crowley said quietly. 

“A miracle.” Azirphale said with a smile.

Crowley let the star float up in the room and cascading them in a subtle glow and warmth. He reached over and grabbed Aziraphale, kissing him deeply and gripping the back of his shirt tightly. The angel kissed him back and kept his hands against the demons cheeks. It was six thousand years of love that kept Crowley standing tall, from this angel, this one angel that was just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.

Crowley took the star up to the sky later on and called it Aziraphale. When he came back, Azirphale was in bed, waiting for him sleepily. 

“Come to bed now. Tomorrow is a busy day.” Aziraphale said, with slight slurred speech. 

“I know, I know.” Crowley said crawling into bed. 

Crowley held Azirphale against him and they stayed like that for a moment. 

“You know that I love you, right?” Crowley asked, his head buried against Azirphale’s back. 

“Yes. I love you too, Crowley.” Aziraphale said, taking Crowley’s hands and squeezing them against his chest. 

“Thanks angel.” Crowley said. 

They fell asleep and knew the world was just beginning for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you for reading this Good Omens fic. I tried my very best to write this. It was inspired by an culmination of things, the head canons of Crowley being Archangel Raphael and creating Alpha Centauri. Songs like "Two Slow Dancers" by Mitski, "Turning Page" and "Neptune" by Sleeping at Last and "Two Hungry Blackbirds" by Iron and Wine (which makes an appearance in the fic!). I just wanted to create something since I was so moved by all these things and I hope that you all enjoy it! 
> 
> My twitter is @funguspng. 
> 
> I hope to try and create more good omens work in the future, but this is it for the current time being. 
> 
> Thank you!


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